


Didn't I Just Say No?

by ScathachBan



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Bakura x Reader, F/M, Funny, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Oc|Reader - Freeform, Swearing, Weird, Yugioh! - Freeform, life - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-05-15 09:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScathachBan/pseuds/ScathachBan
Summary: I never exactly asked to be chased by a white-haired douchebag all over Domino while fending off another douchebag, who I dumped..."Bakura, Duke, I JUST SAID NO!"Dunno if OC or xreader at this point... WARNING! Contains a ton of profane language (And possibly lemons if I get bored.)I accept comments and musings on what will happen next.





	1. So, How Did I Get Into This Mess Again?

Look, I never asked for this.

Ok, so I went out with him. What's the big problem here? I mean, yeah, I hated him at first, but then he kinda, y'know, grew on me, and...

Fine. Duke shouldn't have been anywhere near us in the first place.

I shouldn't have been anywhere near us in the first place. Hell, if I'd kept the sense that I got the hard way then I probably would have called the cops the moment he broke in through my bedroom window. And I'd have screamed. But I didn't, which is why I'm even in this mess at the moment.

I wouldn't be in this shit if I'd never dated Duke, come to think of it.

Anyway. You're all probably thinking, is this bitch mad? Yes, I am. Crazy mad. But I guess that, to show you how I got this way, I'm gonna have to take some steps back. You wanna know what I'm talking about? Here are my shoes. Walk a mile in 'em, or rather, a lot of miles, because this all started way, way back, when I was in high school in a city called Domino, and just after having had my heart ripped outta my hopeful teenage chest and trampled into the cold, hard ground by a shithead called Duke Devlin...

Let's begin, shall we?

*~*~*

It was early on into the school year and I hated myself.

I sat at my desk at lunch, an origami zoo in front of me, and watched the popular kids from the corner of my eye. They all sat around in groups, laughing, chatting, and - in some rare and extreme cases - eating.

Nobody ever came near my desk except the guy who sat beside me. And once - the paper in my hands nearly ripped with the jolt of fury that made my fingers curl - The Jackass.

That lazy, lying, cheating son-of-a-bitch.

He was over in the corner at the back of the class, impressing yet more girls with his fancy party tricks - which, I noted, with a flash of satisfaction, had never ever worked on me - and flirting with everyone, including himself.

Man, I could even hear his fucking smooth voice all the way up here in the top-right corner. And the fangirls squealing when he did the least little thing. Cunts.

"Ohh, Duke, you're so cool!~"

"Please do another trick for us, Duke!~"

"Duke, would you like a cupcake? I baked them myself.~"

The small, paper square that I ripped out of my notebook and ripped with a ruler blurred in front of my staring eyes. I bit my lip to stop myself from growling in self-loathing, blinking angrily and folding another model to go with the collection in front of me. Not that it'd matter anyway; I always threw them into the bin after school, because why would I want to take something home that holds all of my memories of loneliness and hate and rage from the place where I was nothing more that a sad, gullible little nobody?

Yeah... as you've probably realised, I'm not exactly the purest-minded person on the planet here. But hey, I'm only human.

Human, stupid and forgettable.

I could the nearest conversation beside me change from talking about somebody beating someone else in a children's card game to a person. A specifically nasty person.

Not only was the subject change a rarity in itself, but the fact that they were talking about that white-haired, womanising prick -

"He's getting worse." A cute guy, his brother, sighed wearily. "It's almost as if he wants to pick fights with me about it. And he was home late last night."

The Blonde snorts. He's an annoying perv, but bearable. Mostly. "Isn't that normal for him anyway?" He mutters, dubiously. Cutie makes a tch noise.

"Only when he's found another one."

Queue sounds of worry - general tut-tuttings, exasperated murmurs and the like. I finished the final fold for the body, rolling my eyes. Since when has Bakura not had a victim? Curiouser and curiouser.

The bell rang, sounding the ten-minute alarm before classes were to begin again. The groups stayed together, slowly moving towards the doorway and the lockers, complaining of the class they had next, the fact that they hadn't managed to finish their lunch - well, I thought, serves you right for all the chatting you were doing about your fad diet, ya whore - and of other gossip which was vital to the greasing of the machine that is Social Life.

The guy beside me, next to the wall, grunted in disdain, closing the lid of his laptop with a sharp snap that sent my paper creations fluttering around the place, some to the floor, others remaining like mutilated soldiers on a battlefield - the screamless dead, I reminded myself, showing that the old book of poetry I'd found the other day wasn't going to waste - but somehow leaving the little bench and the person I'd just made intact. Funny, really, because he looks as if his shoulders are hunched, like he's lonely, too. I felt a pang of guilt, like, I dunno, maybe I should have made him a companion or something - but I sweep them all into my jumper instead, transporting them to their final resing place among everyone else's garbage.

After all - I sweep them off of me in short, jerky strokes - who'd want something that was made to be torn apart?

Don't look at me like that, I didn't know any better at the time. But I soon would.

That afternoon, in fact.

*~*~*

I always avoided the crush.

I couldn't help it. Nobody to go with, nothing much to go to, and besides, taking down my notes off'f the blackboard was far more important than rushing to the nearby GameStop to see if any new booster packs for that weird game that everyone except me plays.

Fine, I'll admit it: I'm a nerd. Academical success mattered more to me than Duel Monsters, which, might I add, I never have had the time or the money to play. So there.

I took down the final notes, looked over my work, ignored the completely-not-accidental jerk of The Jackass swinging his bag against my shoulder on his way out while he called out to another girl across the room - "Hey Anita, wanna grab a coffee with me, darling?" - waited for nearly everyone to disappear, then - and only then - did I close my pencilcase, gather my books and get up. Kaiba glared at me, pointedly shutting his laptop and putting it into his briefcase.

"Take your time about it, it's not like I don't have more important things to do than to wait for you to move," he growled, same as he did every day. In retaliation, I gave him the same flick of my ponytailed hair, carrying my books with me as I called back over my shoulder -

"If you wanna be outta here faster, Mister Busy, then why don't you sit on the outside?

\- like I did every day. Yup, my life was just full of interesting surprises, I glumly told myself. It's not like something stranger than normal's gonna happen. Seriously.

Hah. Jinx.

The corridors were mercifully clear; only the odd straggler to be seen: people like me, with downcast eyes and strange habits and survival instincts that were always blaring.

Well. So I liked to think, anyway.

I moved past them, reaching my locker and tugging at the jammed door - courtesy of Duke, I thought sourly - and finally managing to open it far enough so that I could pull out my bag, my books and my turned-off phone, which I then revived,slipping it into my pocket. It's not like anybody would leave any messages on my phone, anyway - my servicing company excepted.

I was out of my own thoughts for long enough to notice the yellow post-it note stuck to my locker as I leaned on it to force it into submission, but waited until I'd actually shut the damned thing before pulling it off to look at it.

Oh dear. Another one.

"Duke," I muttered to myself, crumpling it up and slamming it into the bin beside the school door to the glorious outside - "When are you gonna learn that I'm not going back to you, you slimy little mudball?"

I stepped out and onto the long walk home.

My bag was heavy, as always. My thoughts had brightened up a bit, as they always did when I left school. I turned left and up the little side street that acted as a shortcut to my family's house as always, and I stopped to glance in the window of the cosy little restaurant that I'd been to once or twice, as always -

But what was not as always was the white-haired, ghost-skinned, arrogant, deceitful bastard who stared right back at me through the window, smiled, and made a "Come in" gesture to me - and then winked at me. I could feel my face burn.

I whipped my gaze away and very quickly stomped off, almost unable to hear the sound of my thought over the alarm bells clanging in my brain.

That absolute cunt! How the hell'd he even find the place!? It's so far off his way home that - that -

_"Only when he's found another one."_

_"When he's found another one."_

_"He's found another one."_

I had a terrible feeling that "Another one" was me.

An icy chill began to run in my veins until it was replaced by my normal sense of being: Resigned morbid cyniscism. I thought about it, then shrugged.

Well, balls.


	2. When All My Problems Turn To Hell For Help

Bi-beep! Bi-beep! Bi-beep!

"Ungh..."

My alarm nearly scared me outta the bed the next morning, growing louder and louder while my sleep-numbed arm flopped around my side table to try and hit the Snooze button. Eventually I got it, but man, was I absolutely wrecked.

I could barely see the illuminated numerals on my alarm when I cracked open a bleary eye in a rush of ow. It felt like somebody was pouring acid into them.

6:03

Fucking hell, why did I have to get up so early to go to Domino High!? It wasn't fair...

Plus I especially wasn't looking forward to finding out why that white-haired skirt-chaser pretty much Apparated into one of my favourite eateries, just like that. Oh, and then there was the Jackass Problem. Duke had no skills whatsoever in getting back old exes, and I really, really just wasn't in the mood to humour him or anyone today.

My bed creaked when I eventually got too overanxious and decided that anything was better than worrying myself sick about something that probably wasn't gonna happen anyway. I glanced at myself in the mirror, noting how much paler I looked, the bags under my eyes that could be mistaken for suitcases. I brushed my tangled, cleaned hair, struggled into my uniform and headed downstairs to make lunch and get breakfast and shit.

"Bakura and Duke can both go and fuck themselves, I'm not giving up my learning for them," I muttered under my breath. The kitchen was warm, and I put the kettle on to boil for tea, adding two fresh teabags to the pot before going to grab supplies from the pantry. Besides, I decided, even if that albino git is interested in me, it's not like I'm gonna meet him on my way to school, right?

Right?

*~*~*

I trudged down Domino's jam-packed streets, ignoring the usual sounds of the car horns beeping, radios blaring and brakes squealing, passing by the supermarkets, apartment blocks and various takeaways before finally reaching my turn-off: The shortcut.

Automatically I slowed before shrugging off my irrational fear. My bag's heavy, I'm tired and I'll probably be late if I don't go down here. Besides, what if he isn't there? With those options fresh in my mind, and with grump at maximum level, I turned the corner down the alleyway.

It was empty, apart from the bins put out for collection. I still had a gut instinct, though, and if there's one thing that I do, it's listen to the gut: If I'd done it long before I physically caught Duke snogging some other babe then I'd never have suffered the shame and embarrassement and, and pain that I did when I tuned it out -

Hold on.

I walked forwards boldly, muttering under my breath and shaking my head as I did so. The early-morning shaft of light made my shadow fall in front of me, to be joined by a second one as I passed the restaurant door. I turned around when it did, glared fiercely at its caster and snapped out: "Well?"

Not the thing that he was expecting, but then again I'm not exactly your normal girl, am I?

Bakura's hair was, as usual, shaggy and sticking up, like he'd just decided not to brush it when he got outta the bed this morning - which he probably didn't, him having a reputation as a nightbird. His blue boy's jacket was open, the shirt ruffled. He had a weird, I dunno, golden thingy on his chest, like a ring with spikes and a pyramid.

One hand held the thingy, the other was shoved into his jacket pocket, all casual and cool-acting - the cheek, I thought, indignant at this lack of respect, I mean, I may be a grumpy bitch but I'm still a lady - and he smirked down at me with those deep, dark eyes of his and smirked.

"I was beginning to wonder whether or not you were coming this way." I jumped slightly, an angry flush burning my cheeks. He leaned towards me, reaching for my arm. His devil's eyes glittered. "Turns out that I was right to wait."

I turned around and started walking off towards school before his fingers could even graze my stupid pink jumper. Served him right, the forward, womanising stalker that he is -

Ok, fine. I was stomping. Happy now?

"Go away." My voice was tired, annoyed - same as me. I saw him easily catch up to join in step with me from the corner of my eye.

"Why, and miss walking with you?" I could hear his smug tone and I wanted to punch it of'f his face. The bastard couldn't even leave me alone for the last ten minutes of the walk, and I - well, I was -

Baffled, I guess. Pissed and on guard, but also confused. I mean, look, I'll be the first to say that I'm not pretty, or even that interesting. I'm also, by default, a bitch. As in B with an itch bitch. As you guys have probably noticed already...

Hang on, what's with those looks? You mean you - oh, that's good then. Sorry, I was a bit worried there that – but never mind.

"You've never walked with me before," I growled, shooting him a glare, to which he responded with a knowing smirk.

"First time for everything, sweetheart." I snorted.

"Couldn't find yourself a willing bitch, is that it?" A small part of me was delighted to watch his face grow cold, angry, before smoothing over to become the friendly mask again. "Why don't you do us both a favour and go fuck yourself, alright?"

"Why don't you come out for lunch with me?" He purred, back to normal.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because reasons."

"What reasons?" He pressed, a strange smile on his face. I glanced up. School was fast appoaching.

"Many reasons. Go away."

"Can I give you a kiss?"

"NO!"

"What about a hug?"

"No."

"Hold your hand?"

I whipped around to face him in the school gate, glowering up at him. "Look, you little streak of piss, I don't know you. Nor do I want to know you," I spat, rage boiling over, needing an escape route. I pointed at him threateningly. "You don't know me either. I have no idea why you're bothering, or what your aim is, but I'm just gonna warn you here and now," I poked his chest with each point, leaning in to hiss, "If you try to pull any of your moves on me again, then I can and will castrate you. Am I understood?"

I left before he could answer, fuming.

*~*~*

I shoved my way past the groups of students at the lockers, ignoring everybody. When I reached mine, I found a massive crush there that not even my mighty elbows could break apart. My fists curled: Even though I couldn't see over people's heads, I could still recognise the voice of that lying, cheating, airheaded asshole.

And it was coming from around my locker.

Angrily I pushed and I shoved my way into the crush, stamping on toes, shouldering my way through. And what do I arrive to?

Go on, have a guess.

A bit more, come on. Wrack those brains.

Fine then. Have it your way.

*~*~*

"Duke." I kept my voice devoid of all emotion. "Get away from my locker, you git."

He stayed leaning against it, throwing me a winning smile as he tossed the dice up and down in his spare hand, the other - would you have guessed it - shoved into his pocket. "Hey there, sweetie."

"I'm not your sweetie and you know it." Quick as a flash, I grabbed the dice from midair and tossed it into the crowd, my finger trembling as I pointed it in the same direction. "Go fetch. And in the meantime, leave me alone."

He smiled again and took another dice from his other pocket, tossing that instead. "Not 'til you come back to me, babes. I miss you."

"No." I shrugged my bag off my shoulder, grabbed the annoying spike of his hair that I'd once found so cute and tugged. Duke winced, following the direction I pulled him in: i.e, away from my locker so that I could force it open and start unpacking, ignoring the shouts and screams of rage from the girls- and some of the guys, too. "Go away, you twat."

He grabbed my arm as I was about to slot my Maths textbooks into their alloted place and dragged me into him. I gasped, but then just glared at him, sick of the whole experience.

"Before you even say anything to me, you cheating, disgusting liar - " he flinched back with each word -"We were over as soon as you kissed the other girls. In fact, since you cheated on me so many times with so many people, I don't even think that we were properly going out at all."

His eyes hardened, just as the warning bell rang. I ripped my arm from his grasp and turned back to my locker. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm a little busy here."

He stood there staring at me until I stacked my books up for the classes today and left. I could feel the headache already forming behind my eyes, like dark thunderclouds on a heat-haze horizon (See what I did there? Alliteration! Yeah!) and I rubbed my temple to get rid of it, huffing out my pent-up breath.

The early morning before school had already been so bad, I was beginning to think that it couldn't get any worse than that.

Newsflash: It got worse.


	3. My Day Gets Worse

When I got into the classroom Kaiba wasn't in his usual seat. In fact, the room was Kaibaless.

What was there instead was the Devil himself, and I swear, I gaped until I could feel my eyes bulging out of my head in horror.

Bakura looked up from where he was lounging on his swinging chair, and threw me a lazy smile. "Hey there, sweetheart."

I glanced around the room. The only other free seat was the one next to Duke, and there was no way in Hell that I was gonna sit beside that asshat. But then again, there was no way that I wanted to sit beside this one, either...

I gave him my deluxe I'll-kill-you-painfully stare, the one I'd perfected straight after dumping Duke, and leaned my books on my table. I matched his smirk with my scowl. "That's not your seat."

"It is now."

"You're not even in this class, ya pussy-lickin' whoreson of Satan," I growled. Someone behind him gave me a startled look, like they'd never heard a bad word in their life - but that was their problem, not mine. I wasn't in the mood for dancing around the issue. "Go back to the pit you spawned from - HEY! Give that back!"

He quickly hid my pencilcase down the far side of his chair and gave me a wink, just as the fucking teacher walked into the classroom and ordered - Ordered, moi? - to sit down beside the asshole, adding in a loud voice that if he ever heard me use that kind of language again to a new classmate then I'd be getting a month's worth of detentions and extra lectures on ettiquette. I did as I was told, fuming, listening to the sniggers all around me as I scraped my chair as far away from the sneaking scumbag as possible - which wasn't very far, considering the circumstances.

As the teacher began to write on the board, I felt something brush over my leg and looked down with a start. The fucking turd tried to put his hand on my (Thankfully-covered) thigh again so without looking at him I grabbed his pen and stabbed it. Hard.

His slight intake of breath and the sudden tightening of his body told me that I'd won that battle. I picked up his sleeve between my finger and thumb and dropped it back into his own lap, opened my notebook and started jotting down with the lecher's pen. Already I was becoming pissed that my notes for today would be in monochrome: I'd have to redo them as soon as I got home, on top of all of the other homework and study I'd need to do...

Yes, I am OCD about my notes. I like being OCD about my notes. It means that they're organised and easy to go through and not just fucking dull all the time.

And so what if I'm using multiple italics? It's a free country, dammit.

Anyway, Bakura was holding my pencilcase in custody and I wasn't sure that the bitch was gonna give it up without a fight. Seriously? I was just worried that I wouldn't be able to do any paperworks at break or lunch to avoid having to talk to people because if there's one thing that's vital for making the perfect tear in a page, it's a ruler.

A ruler which was trapped beside a scheming, plotting, dastardly little toerag.

Oh, joy.

Bakura tried to attract my attention many more times in the space of that one class, and each time he did it I was getting more and more unnerved. I mean, it's one thing to sit beside someone who ignores you, but it's completely another to be forced into a small chair at a small desk with little to no space between you and somebody who keeps trying to cop a feel. So by the end of it I felt as jittery as if I'd just eaten a whole load of sugar and washed it down with, like, ten cups of coffee. And a frappé.

When breaktime finally came, I was almost relieved to get outta my seat. I dashed outta that classroom like my ass was on fire, slammed my textbooks inside my locker and legged it to the girls' bathroom. I grabbed the furthest-away cubicle, locked it, and plonked down onto the toilet seat, trying to regain my lost composure. I mentally started listing out all that was wrong with my world.

One: Duke still wanted me back. Like he was gonna get me, the whore.

Two: The white-haired perv had stolen Kaiba's seat, my pencilcase and my steady status with the teacher, and was also dipping his light-fingered hands into thepocket that held my sanity.

And, very quickly dawning on me as the sounds of other girls began to fill the bathroom, three: I was in the most popular cubicle, it being furthest away from the camera and therefore great for texting, in a bathroom which was rapidly being taken over by the popular girls, all of whom A) hated me for "Hurting" Duke for dumping him and B)despised me for having been his girlfriend in the first place.

"-She, like, called him some really horrible names and I was like, 'Girl, you need to get a grip-"

Oh, and C): They were now sharing gossip about my misdemeanors in class with other, equally-hating and empty-headed vessels of BEEOTCH.

And I was stuck in this fucking cubicle and trying not to breathe too loud.

Look, if you're a guy and you're reading this because you wanna feel my pain, get this: Guys, they don't mess around. They shove you, yeah, bruise you, break a few bones if they really hate you. But at least they call you what they think you are to your face. Girls, especially the pretty, popular girls, man, they could be standin' right in front of you and smilin' all sweetly, and then as soon as you're gone they're gonna be dragging your name in the mud.

At least guy's wounds can be healed in time. but there's nothing that can heal your reputation if a popular girl wants to ruin you for eternity. And the worst thing of all is, you won't even know they're doing it.

Me, I could hear the continuation of my degradation just fine.

"She's, like, sooo out of fashion." Cue sniggers.

"Do you reckon she gets her hair done by dragging it through a bush? I don't think she even knows what curling tongs are." Another one quipped in, and my fist began to curl. That one was Helena, one of the many "friends" that Duke had introduced me to, and the reason that I saw the light and dumped him in the first place. Helena of the thick honey-blonde mane that guys always drooled over, she of the perfectly-tanned, spot-free skin and flawless make-up, her nails manicured professionally once a week, Helena of the short-short skirt and push-up bras to make her E-cup stand out even more to the guys she fluttered her fake eyelashes at. Helena, who had been pretty much devouring the double-crossing, two-timing sleaze with her hands already pretty far down his pants. Helena who was being devoured enthusiastically in turn and having her tits groped, her skirt already up for a quick fuck.

And then afterwards the faggot had had the sheer audacity to flick her hair at me and tell me in no uncertain tones that "Duke's never been your boyfriend, honey."

And you wonder why I hate 'em yet?

"Hey guys, this one's been locked all break." Amanda, Helena's equally blonde friend (Blonde from a bottle, and just as dumb) rattled the door to my cubicle. "Somebody's hiding in here." (Duh.) I nearly froze, but then my mouth kicked in before my brain could, and for once saved my bacon:

"Can't a girl take a shit without being interrupted anymore?" I yelled at half-strength, but it was still pretty loud in that confined space. I heard the room go near-silent, before -

the whispers started, just as the bell rang.

Saved. I gave a sigh of relief and, just to make it sound like the biggest shit in the history of girlkind, dropped the rest of my rolled-up, half-eaten jam sandwich down the hole with a ton of toilet paper and flushed.

I cheerfully opened the door and shoved my way past the shocked audience to reach the sink, squirting the soap onto my hands and washing them vigourously. I saw one or two of 'em nearly gag. But I couldn't hold the smile back off'f my ugly face. I'd pulled one over them.

I dried my hands and walked out whistling.

Unfortunaltely, since Life has recently taken up the habit of being an absolute bitch to me, I wouldn't be allowed to keep my relief for as long as I'd have liked.

Whaddaya mean, "Why not"? I dunno, go ask Life. Look, he's over there. No, behind your shoulder. Your other shoulder - oh wait, he's gone. Don't ask him then.

As I grabbed my books for the next few classes, I had a deep sense of foreboding that nothing could have prepared me for the troubles that lay ahead of me that day.

Nothing, of course, except a trashy teenage romance novel.

I walked into the classroom to a scene outta... pretty much every reverse-harem anime out there, I guess. All of the populars were blocking the door, and I soon found out why.

Duke and Bakura were having a stand-off at my desk.

"You should really stay away from her," Duke smiled, placing a friendly hand on Bakura's shoulder. "She's not your type, I mean look at you, man! You deserve better than her! You can get any other girl in the city, so why go for one as low-class as her?"

Low-class. You deserve better. My heart was frozen, but my mind was ablaze. This was how he was gonna try and get me back? Seriously? By insulting me in front of everybody in the entire class!?

He didn't deserve the balls his Mama gave him.

Bakura threw his head back and laughed, pearly teeth catching the light perfectly to dazzle all. "'Low-class'? If she's so low-class, then tell me, friend," he yanked Duke painfully down by tugging on the same piece of hair I'd dragged him by, smiling a smile that didn't reach his burning eyes, "Why are you after her, hmm?"

Duke forced a chuckle, his grin more like a grimace. "Let's not get back into the details, huh? I'll just say that even though she is a piece of trash" - a round of applause came from some of his fans - "Sometimes even trash has its days, yeah?"

"Nice try, you little piece of shit."

Duke jerked away from Bakura, straightening his jacket and tucking his hair behind his ear as I shoved my way though the horde to the front of my desk. There were no words anymore. There was nothing except for the burning, all-consuming disgust in my chest. "Sweetie -" he tried.

Slap! Slap!

I double-handed him across the face, leaving two stinging red marks across his cheeks. He reached up and touched one of them gingerly, attempting the innocent smile again. "It's not what it looks like -"

Crack!

This time I caught him in a left uppercut to the jaw. He stumbled backwards, clutching it, as I strode forwards, still cradling my books under my right arm. "Not what it looks like, is it? That's exactly what you said the last time. And the time before that, and the time before that." I advanced on him, unaware of the crowd closing in behind me. "How about what it sounds like? Is it what it sounds like? I guess it's easy to mix up a 'low-class piece of trash' like me with one of your other bitches, right?" He opened his mouth, but I held up a finger. "No, Duke. No more excuses. I'm sick of being lied to by you, being cheated on by you, hell," I spat, "Being nothing more than a nobody to you was better than this!"

"Baby, just -"

"I've moved on, you two-timing prick." He opened his mouth wordlessly, then shut it again, shaking his head. "Why can't you?"

Second bell rang. I slowly sank down into my seat with the throbbing in my head like someone hammering inside of my skull. I didn't care that I was next to the skirt-chaser. I didn't care that my pencilcase was still beside his right foot.

All I wanted, at that one moment in time, was to go home.

Well, also some painkiller and my pencilcase, and for Bakura and Duke to disappear off'f the face of the earth, but mostly to go home. Although them disappearing came a close second.

"Here."

Bakura's murmur was the last thing that I wanted to hear, but I cracked open an eyelid and saw him holding out a packet of Paracetamol. I looked at him suspiciously, and he shrugged. "Your fist will start aching soon. Believe me."

Gingerly, I took the packet. Two were popped out of the plastic, swallowed dry. "Thanks," was the mumbled response as I gave them back to him. Man, I was wrecked. Crevée. Epuisée. Outta the game. Tinn taoirseach. Wrecked.

"Anytime." I closed my eye again and leaned on my fist, but he just wouldn't stop bugging me. "You say that you've moved on..."

"Mmph?"

"But the question remains," he lowered his voice even further as the teacher's footsteps clacked in on her stilettos, "Who have you decided to move on to?"

Well, fuck me. It certainly wouldn't be him. Not then, not ever. I was done with getting my heart ripped. I wasn't gonna open up for anybody anymore. Never again.

"Go fuck yourself, Bakura, it certainly won't be you." My growl carried only to his ears. The prick just laughed and slipped something over the desk to me. I glanced down at it through half-closed eyes. My pencilcase.

"We'll see."


	4. Enough About You, What About Me?

A/N: Ok you guys, I am now a university student (Waits for cheers/boos to calm down) and that means that… yep, holy fuck, my creativity just flew by someone over there and sqee’d its way to infinity and beyond. Basically saying, my brain has no time to brain anymore, except in terms of Science. So, if there are fewer updates from me, that is part of the reason.

 

The other part of the reason is that Life has decided to force me into society. Yes, thanks life, now fuck off. So I am occupied with all manner of social pleasantries, after which I have to lock myself in my room and wait for my heart to stop screaming.

 

…Anyway. I enjoy writing this. You enjoy reading it. Let’s form a coalition, shall we? ONWARDS TO THE NEXT CHAPTER OF… DIDN’T I JUST SAY NO!

 

 

~~~

 

 

 

By the time I had dragged my bone-weary, tired corpse through my front door, I was ready to _punch_ something. Except that I was also ready to collapse. Or break down crying. Maybe all three.

 

That motherfucker of a thief had tried to follow me home. _Me!_ My gritted teeth made an unpleasant _crk-rk-rk_ noise, but I ignored it, dumping my bag in the middle of our orange-and-white kitchen floor and heading to the fridge. Man, how the actual fuck was I supposed to _deal_ with this guy? Or the cheat? Or the legion’f fangirls out there baying for my blood?

 

“They can all just screw themselves, they get along well enough,” I muttered under my breath. Mom had left me a bowl of stew, with carefully written out instructions explaining how to heat it up in the microwave, with the bit about not leaving the metal spoon in underlined, highlighted and exclamation-marked 5 times (I don’t give two shits whether it’s a word or not, quit fucking judging me.) There was a little post-it stuck to the fridge shelf, too:

 

**Eat it all, honey! Daddy and I will be home early tomorrow. Tell your brother that he’d better do his homework and to have an early night!**

**-Love Mommy**

Aww, why did it hav’ta be me who told that lazy-ass pile of junk what to do? Ran my inner monologue, as I prepped my food for consumption by following the aforementioned guidelines. Couldn’t life just give me a break for once?

 

Welp, you’ll be unsurprised to hear the gleeful screams of Life, even if I couldn’t at the time, and Life did cry: “AW HELL NAE!”

 

Well fuck you too Life.

 

 

~~~

 

 

“Knock Knock.”

 

“Fuck off ya little nerd,” came the muffled reply. I sighed, hitched my schoolbag back up my shoulder, grasped the sticky doorhandle and entered the Man-Cave – or as I liked to call it, the Damn-Cave.

 

“Mom told me ta tell you to knock off the computer games early and do your homework,” I droned. In the darkened room, the harsh flashing light of the screen, coupled with the nauseating stench of Boy made me want to throw up the food in my overstuffed gut. The pale, gross grub on the floor didn’t even look my way as he angrily smashed buttons on his controller, tilting in whatever direction he was aiming, then growling and throwing it to the floor in a fit of rage. “DAMN!” Finally, he turned to glower at me, snarling. “You fucked up my game, ya whore.”

 

And y’all wonder why I hate doing this.

 

“Have you done your homework yet.” It never was a question with him. He never did it anyways.

 

He glared at me. “I thought I told you to fuck off. Get out my room, nerd.”

 

“Geek,” I retorted, glaring back. “Man, you should think about tidying up in here, too. Mom and I won’t do it for you anymore.” I covered my nose with my sleeve, to keep the smell out as much as keeping the contents of my stomach in. “This place is like a sewer.”

 

“I’ll clean my room when you get a boyfriend who isn’t a whore.” He smirked as I winced. That little shit never stopped bringing it up, every time, just to watch me squirm. “Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

 

“Mai’s cheating on you too, you know,” I mutter, backing away and slamming the door just as he jumped up to wring my stupid neck.

 

“You slut, you take that back!” I darted into my room, locking the door, slumping against it and pressing my hands against my mouth. I could feel the bile rising in my throat. The door shook with the force of his fists, his feet. “Come out and face me, you filthy, stinkin’ bitch!”

 

Please God, don’t let anything else happen to me today. Another slam, and the useless rattling of the doorhandle do nothing to improve my upset stomach. I swear to Jesus, if anything else happens to me today then I’m gonna –

 

My useless turd of a brother gave up, yelling a few more insults through the door just so that I knew this fight wasn’t over. He’d probably steal my textbooks again and rip ‘em up. Or my copybooks. So far he hadn’t found my diary, partly because I didn’t have one. That was a small mercy, at least…

 

“Uuugh.” My poor, knotted intestines. I havta think of somethin’ else, not food, I knew, not school, somethin’ that wouldn’t make me wanta projectile vomit over my brother’s corpse…

 

Something started buzzing in my pocket.

 

I shoved my hand into it and tugged out… my cell? The numbers were blurred, but I still knew that this wasn’t Mom or Dad, and they’d be the only ones who would make any sort of, y’know, voice contact shit with me… So then I was thinking, who the hell in their right mind would wanta call me this late in the evening?

 

(I can hear y’all screaming in the background. Don’t rush me.)

 

Well, I guessed there was only one way to find out…

 

I slid the lil green fucker of an answer button along the screen with my sweaty thumb, propped my elbow on me knee and shoved that thing to my ear. “Who’s this.”

 

“Guess who,” purred a disgustingly familiar voice. My eyeballs literally popped outa my head and back again. My stomach churned. And I was lucky that my door was close to the bathroom, because I ended up scrambling on my hands and knees to make an offering to the sweet porcelain. I heard the fucker laugh in my head.

As soon as I had bleurgh’d up my offering I snatched the phone from where I had dropped it on the floor, wiped my mouth with toilet paper, and began to vent as though I had never vented before.

 

“GO SCREW YOURSELF AND DIE IN A HOLE! How did you even get this number anyway, you piece a’ trash!?” I added. Bakura’s always bin a sly one, and if he’d been doing illegal shit to get in contact with me… welp. I’d drop a lawsuit and a restraining order on that smug little face of his like it was crap raining down from the Gods.

 

“That’s not very nice.” I could hear the pout in his voice, the douchebag. As if he was actually upset. I doubted that he even had feelings. “Especially since I went to all this trouble to even find your number in the first place.”

 

“Oh yeah? Then answer my question, whoreson: HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET THIS NUMBER.” I. Was. Fuming. I was a volcano ready to cover Pompeii. I was an ocean of lava, prepared to heartlessly swallow his corpse and send it into an abyss of pain. Bakura, however, didn’t seem to catch my mood, since all he did was give an annoying little “Hmph” and rustle in the background. “Simple, really, I looked it up on your Farcebook page.”

 

“I’m not on Farcebook. If you’re gonna lie, do it properly, twerp.” He laughed, and my stomach coiled up and writhed uncomfortably again. Uuugh. What horrible, heinous acts had I performed in a past life to deserve this? “Goodbye and good riddance.”

 

“Wai – “ I pressed the red button, dropped the phone on the tiles, and wearily fell back beside the toilet to hork up some more food. Hah, all that dinner, goin’ to waste…

 

My phone buzzed angrily several times. I ignored it. I mean, what else could I do? Oh, right, thanks.

 

I picked it up, pressed the power button, and turned it off before throwing it onto my bed. The bag I’d bin carrying glowered at me from the door. Welp. Might as well make a start on ** _something_** before I go nuts.

 

I flushed the toilet, washed my face and hands at the faucet, scrubbed my teeth until I couldn’t taste the bile anymore. But I still couldn’t get rid of the nagging, horrible paranoia that was eating me alive. What did Bakura call me for? What’d he wanna say? How’d he get my cell number?

 

And how the fuck was **_I_** meant to **_deal_** with all this shit?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. The Mistakes I Made

A/N: Three assignments, placement beginning in March, a security guard dying in my school building, finding out that my cat has been missing for weeks and nobody telling me… I’m putting it all aside for you guys. I hope that you’ll all forgive the way that this is written, or at least it’ll be as funny as usual. So, without further ado, I’ll let you get on with reading… DIDN’T I JUST SAY NO!

 

*~~*~*

 

I was dragged from dreamland with another fucking headache and the disgusting, ugly burning of nausea in my stomach. My throat felt as though there was a knife stuck in it, one that wouldn’t leave, my eyeballs were on fire behind my gummed up eyelids, and when I moved to roll off the bed, I was right-hooked by such a wave of dizziness that I fell back onto my side, gagging.

I rubbed off the sleep-gunge and squinted at my alarm clock until my eyes watered.

Fucking 00:48 in the fucking night. Honestly, what kind of shit was going on that I couldn’t even sleep right? Damned disrespectful is what it was. Fucking stupid brain.

I rolled off the bed and landed on the floor with a bone-jarring thump, grumbling silently at the ceiling. The cold wooden floor was – shock, horror – better than the bed to my sweaty body, but I couldn’t let that fool me. I knew I wasn’t gonna sleep again tonight.

I just could not give a shit about anything anymore. It was too painful. It was interfering with my sleep cycle and giving me headaches like a tiny baby Satan was sitting in my skull and throwing a demon doll against the walls in a temper tantrum. My last fuck had flown, as had my will to live. 

The floor was starting to hurt.

I remembered that, thanks to those two asshats, I still had homework to do.

I felt disgusting.

Welp, I supposed, there’s only one way that this could turn out.

*~*~*

“You look more dead than usual.” Kaiba matched my deadpan look with his own. I yanked out the chair and fell into it as my head donked onto the table in perfect, floppy sync.

“Please don’t make it sound like you care for me.” Kaiba sneered at my monotonous accusation. 

“Please. As if I would ever want to date someone as irritating as you. How disgusting.” Never a truer word, my frienemy. I knew I could rely on you to be an emotionless and calculating asshole, for which I was glad. No matter the day, no matter the hour, no matter the scores, Kaiba would never change. He was the one constant in my life of Hell.

Anyway, moving on. I rolled my head to the side and gave him the dead fish stare. “Where the fuck were you yesterday, anyway?”

“Unlike some people, I have a company to run.” He sneered at me with his usual icy glare and mimicked the words that I had literally just said. “Please don’t make it sound like you care for me.”

“Bold of you, considering you have all the sense of humour of a dried-up chunk a’ roadkill. You’re not my type. I don’t date assholes.” I let out my breath, shoving my fuzzily-awake head off the desk with difficulty. “I was writing out notes from yesterday. Some new cunt in the class stole my pencil case and made me mess up.”

“Hypocrite,” he stated. Yeah, like I didn’t already know that.

“Correction: I don’t date assholes anymore.” I shot him an annoyed look, but he was already typing away on his laptop as though this conversation had never started. Touché, Mr Kaiba, touché. “You’re never so chatty, what gives?”

I started to take out my little squares of paper and a ruler. I didn’t know what I was gonna make yet, but I’d memorised how to make a cube rose as well as writing out those notes last night, so I wanted to try it out.

Kaiba’s reply made my fingers hesitate.

(Stop it. Stop shipping us. I know who you are, I can sense you. It’s never gonna happen. Ever. So… STOP.)

(I LITERALLY JUST SAID STOP WHADDYA MEAN YOU STILL SHIP IT ARE Y’ALL HIGH OR WHAT?)

“You’re insufferable, but a useful asset. Now hand over the notes.”

(HA! That’s what y’all get for hoping. Besides, didn’t you even read the story notes? This ain’t a Kaiba ship.)

“Geez, I thought it’d be more profound than that.” The other students were slowly shoving themselves in through the door, trying to make it before the teacher came. Idiots, all of ‘em. I packed up the paper and took out my copy. “I can’t give them to you ‘til after school, so - ”

I froze. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. My heartbeat skyrocketed and launched off via my fist, which shot upwards into the jaw of the fucker who’d leaned in too close for comfort. Or it would’ve, except he caught it with one white hand, and squeezed it in a way that made my skin crawl. “That’s cruel, sweetheart.”

At that point, I would have willingly sold my soul to Satan for a chance, just one chance, to find Life and throttle them senseless. I hated, I despised whatever circumstance that had forced me to take this path and end up in this place, this Goddamn motherfucking ugly place, and I wanted out. Now.

As it was, I couldn’t do any of the stuff that I wanted, now, could I?

“Bakura, let the fuck go and stay the fuck away from me,” I hissed. I readied my free hand, trembling with righteous fury, but then he matched me, grin for glower, shoving my fist down onto the table.

“Why did you hang up last night?” He asked, keeping a light tone. His eyes burned with an evil ferocity that mine couldn’t match, even though his face was a smiling, genteel mask of what the other girls would call “Sexay”. There were little flickering red sparks in there, and – don’t focus on his eyes, even though they are understandably pretty in an unconventional manner, you fucktard.

“Because I despise you and You. Make. Me. Sick. Now tell me how you found my cell number.” Everything from last night re-ignited my spark of HELL NAE. The dick didn’t even notice. Or at least if he did, then I didn’t notice him notice, because I didn’t give a shit.

(No, I – fine, I did, but have you ever had to be in close proximity with a fucker that you hate more than normal? It’s disgusting. It’s eeeugh. You never ever EVER want it to happen to you. So you understand my sentiments.)

“I’ll tell you if you meet me on the roof at break.” There was a hole being burned into my soul. I didn’t like that feeling. 

“Not a chance.”

“I need to talk to you.” Burn, burn, burn went his eyes. Wait a second… was his face… different from yesterday? 

“About what?” I muttered, looking away. Damn. It’s hard to argue with a guy who smoulders at you. I yanked his hand off my fist long enough for me to free myself before anyone else could give us the curious looks, preparing my notebooks for the class ahead. Beside me, I heard an almost inaudible “Tch”. 

I didn’t notice the bell ring.

“Mr Bakura, please sit down.” The teacher rapped the desk to the sounds of tittering from the class. I jumped as something was dropped in my lap, jerking round. “There’s a seat next to Mr Devlin for today.”

OH, sweet holy shit. Oh, my divine and devilish soul. This… this was…

I opened the note in my lap as Kaiba discreetly glanced down. He gave another little “Tch” noise. We shared a glance that seemed to mean nothing to him. 

“Help me,” I whispered, to no-one in particular.

“Your call, not mine,” he muttered at the screen. 

I looked down again, and the weight of all the sleepless nights I’d been getting hit me with all the force of a monster truck.

“Fuck,” I swore, softly.

Don’t disappoint me.

This was gonna be crap.

Well, balls.

 

*~*~*

 

The class was as slow as ever, but hey, at least my notes were pristine. I was happy in my position (sort of) and as awake as a snoring pig. If pigs snored. I didn’t know. But I was conscious enough to hold the pen and write, which was all that mattered. Kaiba didn’t speak to me for the rest of the morning, as usual, but here’s where the strange shit starts.

(What, like it hadn’t started already? Get real.)

Because Duke Devlin and Yami Bakura were sitting next to each other. Two rivals in love, fighting for the affections of somebody who had no desire to even look at ‘em, and they were sitting there, in the middle of the class, hissing under their breath when they thought the teacher wasn’t listening. (He totally was.) I heard several stifled grunts, sharp intakes of breath, and stabby noises coming from their direction, which, I gotta admit, made me wanna laugh my ass off, even though I was so dead on the inside that I didn’t know how I wasn’t sprouting a flowerbed outta my cranium.

What’s more, several times during the series of lessons I caught the younger one, Ryou? I thought that was his name? Yeah. I caught him giving me weird looks. Like, “Who the fuck is she” looks. “She’s not someone I know but I totally have some advice that might come in handy for her future, if she has a future” looks. It was weird, and on toppa that, the back of my neck just wouldn’t stop fucking prickling. I had a constant tingling going on there that was really beginning to eat away at my nerves, not helped by the amount of tacks that I’d had ta shake outta my indoor shoes when I got into school.

In hindsight, that was the first of a long list of signs that I shoulda listened to a little harder.

So, up until now I’d thought that I’d had it as worse as it could possibly get. I’d been insulted, cheated on, abused, ignored, slapped, lied to and about, had my name slandered by just about everyone in the fucking school at one point, and I’d gained another trash bag stalking me. But y’all know my motto, by now, right? LIFE HATES MAKING IT EASY FOR ME.

‘Course, I hadn’t exactly, y’know, realised it by then, but looking back, everything that had happened to me, every painful and embarrassing moment, was all Life handing me combustible lemons and then slamming the “Explode” button. It was Life cackling as it span the Wheel of Misfortune to decide just how unlucky I could get, and hitting “Jackpot” each time. Which meant that all those lead-ups, all those little hints I was getting in the classroom that slow and drowsy morning, was Life gripping the knobs on the wheel with both hands and giving it a test swing. In other words, I was in there up to my neck.

I still hadn’t decided whether or not to accept the limey fruitcake’s freaky invite, but I knew that at break, I’d have to leave the classroom and leg it to the toilet. If I happened to decide to maybe peek up that way, then, no harm done, right? Besides, I had the powers of both God and Narrative Causality on my side, right? (TIP: No I fucking didn’t.) Of course, the muttering behind me wasn’t a big help, either. Every time I heard that insidious little whisper of my ex’s, my teeth ground together so hard, that Kaiba put in noise-cancelling headphones. Still, I had my notes, I had my paper, and I still had my sanity, yeah?

Hah. NO.

The bell rang. Everyone got up to leave, but I managed to dodge around the throng and make my way to the hall before the rest of them, my notes clutched to my chest. Kaiba would’ve been shocked if he hadn’t decided to keep staring at the stock market. The lockers weren’t overrun yet, so maybe I could make my way there first, then go pee – 

That was my first mistake.

“ – So, like, she slapped him really hard –“

“ – I heard that, like, she’s a bitch to everyone – “

“ – Somebody should teach her a lesson.”

I reached my locker as the Girl Gang closed in around me like a Venus flytrap. Internally, I swore. I hadn’t been fucking watching where I was heading, since my brain was all mushy with the lack of sleep. Normally, I’d have seen such an obvious trap. Meanwhile, I turned around, looking the ringleader straight in the eye.

“Fancy seeing you here, Helena.”

She gave me a thin-lipped smile, flicking her hair back from that pretty little face of hers. “Oh I’m sorry, honey. I don’t like speaking to trash.” One of the girls tittered behind me. An angry flush turned the back of my neck hot, but I kept my cool.

“And I’ve never heard an empty corridor speak before, but that’s beside the point. What do you want.” I pretended to be bored, watching the little tic rise in her eye before vanishing back into the Barbie-smooth façade she always wore around me. An uneasy, claustrophobic sense filled me. I heard some of her cronies move closer, closing the circle tighter. What a mess.

“We just wanna teach you a few things, sweetie. Don’t we, ladies?” Uh-oh. I had a bad feeling about this… Maybe I shoulda kept my mouth shut… No! They were morons, evil cunts who’d rip you limb from limb as soon as look at you, so why should I listen to them - 

Someone yanked my hair, hard. I winced, falling back into someone else’s sharp claws raking down my arm. My notes were snatched away from me the instant my grip loosened, and then someone decided to start kicking my legs out from under me, and… well…

“Hey!” I lunged towards Helena, the perfectly-manicured claws ripping through my hair, across my cheek. She opened one of the copybooks, ignoring me completely. “Give those back!”

“Wow, so boring.” She flicked though the pages, scanning each page. Her eyebrows crinkled in disbelief. “I can’t believe that you’d have time to write out all these. Except that, well, I can. It must take hours.”

“Helena, I swear to God, if you so much as drop one of them then I’ll end your miserable life, so help me – “ The girls holding me back started laughing as I struggled. Passers by glanced, then quickly walked on by. I was alone in this, like always. 

She locked eyes with me, her face blank. `Then she ripped the copy in half, throwing it over her shoulder. “Oops.”

Tears of rage welled in my heated eyes. My heart hurt, I wanted to hit her, punch her, kick her until that pretty bitch was in hospital. I didn’t hear the scream rip from my throat so much as feel it. I didn’t notice the strength that allowed me to rip myself free of the airheaded wannabes behind me. All that I could think of was her eyes widening as I leapt at her, arms swinging round to clobber her, the wordless shout still echoing in my lungs.

DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE –

I shoved her back, watched her stumble and fall on her skinny behind in the middle of the corridor. I stood up straight. I took a deep breath, exhaled all the thunder in my mind. The circle stepped away. Honestly? I didn’t care. How could I, when I’d seen what I’d seen behind her?

“You’re right,” I told her. “It does take hours to do those notes. But you know what? It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.” I stepped forward, past her, and knelt down to pick up the collapsed heap of paper that had once been my English notes. “Because I can write them again, and again, and again. And to be honest, I don’t give a shit what y’all think about me.” 

“You – “ she started. I stood up, looking past her, towards the person who held the rest of my academic record.

“Can I have those back? Thanks.” He gave them to me with a little smile. Not my type, but still cute. “It’s Ryou, right? We’ve never really talked before.” I turned my back on the gaggle of cunts, moving towards my locker. After all that excitement, my bladder was ready to burst. Oh dear.

“No, we haven’t, have we?” He gave me the weird look that he’d been giving me all morning, and continued, “Do you mind if we do? Talk now, I mean.”

Oh. Shit.


End file.
